


Voyeur

by klytaemnestra (klytae)



Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [19]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra
Summary: Reeve Tuesti considers himself a man of very few wants.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Reeve Tuesti, Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915873
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Voyeur

Reeve Tuesti considers himself a man of very few wants. His duty has long been to the people of Midgar, to counter the many wrongs of Shinra by trying to be the change within, sacrificing his own ambitions to do _the right thing_ . The right thing has landed him as the caretaker and guardian to one Rufus Shinra, deposed and hostile President. What he learns firstly is Rufus does not want to be saved. He makes no apology for it. To have left him to die alone in the smouldering ruins of his office was unthinkable. His duty is to Midgar’s people, and what is Rufus Shinra if not that. He learns also that Rufus is nothing like the rumours. He is inimical but not unkind. And while there is still a certain intimidation about him, he comes to Reeve broken and half blinded, and in time comes to accept his assistance. The third thing Reeve learns is that he’s harboured a small unrequited bit of feelings for his former boss. Be it pity, or admiration, he cannot be for certain, but when he looks at Rufus Shinra there in his care, gradually acclimating and accepting this new and somewhat uncertain world, he feels as if the future, his future, _their_ future, is perhaps perched on some sort of precipice.

And then Rufus is gone. Self imposed exile in Junon.

  
  
_The world doesn't want me._

Reeve thinks of those five words that night as he sits alone in the quiet of the place that had become their shared home for these many weeks. The world may not, but to him the world is a slightly less dim place with Rufus Shinra in it. He laughs a little at the notion, the absurdity of it. He pours himself a glass of that expensive bourbon they had shared, rolls the taste of it against his tongue, and thinks of the strange stolen moment between them where he had cast aside his own trepidation and leaned in to kiss Rufus. How Rufus kissed him back.

It doesn’t truly hurt, but Reeve would be lying if he were to say that he doesn’t miss him, and as the hours grow late he accepts that while Rufus had not been easy to live with, now that Reeve has, he struggles to do so without the familiarity of his presence.

He rises from his spot in the tiny living space, looks to where Rufus had sat during those final weeks when he’d healed enough to once more move about, and there’s the faint emotion of loneliness. But Reeve considers that he’s always been a little bit lonely, even amid AVALANCHE Cait Sith had been a spy, and outcast, and for all his true desire to right the wrongs, he will never quite fit in with the rest of that ragtag band of heroes. Shinra had been the only true home he’s known, the late nights spent in that tower, the dates he’d cancelled, or missed, or simply hadn’t gone as planned, the apartment he’d return to where he kept a single betta fish named Zell who one day had unfortunately gone belly up, and he’d given it a quiet respectful burial in the window flower box. Yes, Reeve admits he’s always been rather lonely.

He hesitates as he enters the narrow upstair’s hall. The door to Rufus’ former room is ajar. He closes it without looking inside and quietly retreats to his own room. There’s no need for any formality or protocol any longer, and he strips down to nothing before making the short trek to the adjacent bathroom. Half of everything is gone. Tooth brush, razor. The countertop nearly bare without the clutter Rufus left behind in his wake. He wonders how the kid will make it without a maid.

When he looks at his reflection in the mirror he’s startled by how old he suddenly looks, as if each line and wrinkle from the past decade has finally caught up with him. He should be thankful, he supposes, that Rufus is gone, to leave him in peace, allow him uninterrupted sleep, and when he crawls into bed he tells himself that the rooms aren’t too quiet, and wishes he’d never allowed himself to hope.

He receives a phone call nine days later. The number is blocked, but he answers anyway, and when the familiar voice on the other line speaks, his heart beats a bit faster. Rufus, calling from Junon. He dares in that moment to let that creeping hope back in. That Rufus in his isolation has decided to return, or ask Reeve to join him there so they might rebuild the world together, better, and stronger, a world without mako power, but one that shines more brightly.

There is a pause. The slow intake of breath. And something that sounds like an apology over the soft hushed voice in the background.

‘Tuesti, I wanted to catch you up to speed.’

_Tseng_.

Reeve feels a certain cold dread in the pit of his stomach, waiting.

‘We’ll need to regroup, consider our strategy plan to rebuild.’ Rufus’ voice is full of the standard professionalism, as if he’d not spent weeks dependent on Reeve’s care. And then. ‘I’ll be sending my Turks to Kalm next Thursday to meet with you. Tseng agrees with our plans, but with a few key changes.’

Reeve’s stomach suddenly somersaults as if he’s been dropped off the ledge of the Shinra building, plummeting 70 stories to the plate below, with nothing to break his fall. Rufus is going on about certain strategic points, funding, how to rebrand and market Shinra in the wake of the averted apocalypse, but Reeve hears nothing but noise, the rush of blood pounding in his ears.

‘I don’t suppose I ever properly thanked you for your loyalty. You’re a valued asset, Tuesti. And I look forward to our next meeting.’

There’s a muffled laugh, and the faint sound of what he knows to be kissing, a soft word of protest, and then, ‘I’ll call you again next week to finalize everything.’ The dial tone cuts in a second later.

He knows he should be happy that Tseng has survived against all odds, knows that Rufus will be easier to work alongside now that he has been reunited with his lover. But there is a jealousy within him. Tseng had not been there at the end to save Rufus, even if Reeve knows that he has lied and deceived Rufus. He remembers Tseng there at the temple, so far gone that none expected him to make it, face ashen from blood loss, bloodied fingers wrapped tightly about Vincent’s wrist as he sighed out a single name. By all accounts the man should have died there, and when Reeve lost contact with Cait Sith, his monitor short circuiting as the weight of debris buried the animatronic cat, Moogle and all, beneath the ruins of the Temple, Reeve had accepted that Tseng was a lost cause. He never told Rufus that he had been there in the end, to see Tseng firsthand, the words he’d uttered deliriously, how he had admitted they were wrong. It had been a kindness to spare Rufus this. Tseng simply was not expected to pull through, and his recovery is nothing less than miraculous.

  
  
Reeve thinks then to Rufus, his own survival, and how there’s a bit of Cait in them both. Like cats, with too many lives to spare.

He sets his phone aside. Breathes. He is not a jealous man.

Later that night he drinks again, just enough to take the edge off. And thinks of Rufus. Of the taste of his lips, the soft sighs he’d made as Reeve had taken him in hand, and worked him to a quick release. How he had kissed his unseeing eye, and told Rufus that he didn’t want anything more. He knows now that it is a lie. He wants so much more, he foolishly thought that he might yet have the opportunity. Rufus loves Tseng, is in love with him, or something. Whatever it is, there is no place in that for him, and yet tonight as he sits alone listening to the soft buzz of insects outside, he thinks of what might have been between them had he allowed Rufus to touch him. He may well have never returned to Junon, and in time Tseng might have become nothing more than a memory, a face lost among the many displaced by the end of the world.

He opens his phone. Pornography of beautiful blonde men is hardly in short supply, a variety of sexual acts featuring men who bear a striking resemblance to the former President of Shinra. Most show men being debased, choking on multiple cocks, spattered in rivulets of cum. But he prefers something softer.

_Blond Twink CEO Fucked Raw by Wutaian Subordinate_.

  
  
Reeve nearly chokes on a mouthful of bourbon.

The faces are obscured enough by the shadowy mood lighting--it had been filmed in the penthouse of some upscale hotel above the plate, Sector 8 judging by the looks of the skyline outside the expansive window, but gods it could be the 69th floor of the Shinra building. The dialogue leaves something to be desired, but the way they fuck there against the glass makes Reeve ache with want.

He slowly undoes his trousers, hand withdrawing his hardening length. Whoever filmed this had preferred a rather artistic take. It feels almost voyeuristic, as if looking in on the two of them together alone in a private moment intended for no one else’s eyes. The thought makes him all the harder. He had known perhaps longer than most that Rufus Shinra was being fucked by a Turk, he’d had a few near misses over the years finding Rufus abruptly standing, flushed, hair ever so slightly mussed, lips swollen and wet from where he knows he had been one his knees moments before, Tseng’s dick down his throat. They were secretive but not necessarily discrete. And not for the first time Reeve considers what that sweet mouth might feel like wrapped around his own cock. Or to sink into the tight heat of that perfect ass, to have him ride him until they are both panting with need and desire. He thinks of Rufus above him, thighs straddling his hips as he fucks himself down onto his cock at an unrelenting pace, the way it would look to see himself buried inside.

He increases his pace.

They’ve switches positions now, legs wrapped around a slim waist as they fuck together in a position that Reeve finds intriguingly difficult. Thinks to those long legs, how they might feel gripping him. And Shiva, does that look like them there in that moment. Exquisite, dangerous, ruthlessly brutal, a pair of predators, equals taking what they want from the planet and making it theirs, together.

Reeve lets out a strangled shout at the force of his release, pearlescent drops of white all over his hand as he gasps and shudders until the little shockwaves of pleasure subside. He opens his eyes to the images on his phone, bodies tightly entwined as they collapse bonelessly to the floor, there is the soft exchange of words, gentle kisses, and as the blonde turns to the camera, Reeve feels as if the air has been punched out of his lungs.

Fuck.

He closes the video not a second later, still slightly shaken from the intensity of his orgasm. 

_Rufus_. 

Rufus Shinra made a sex tape with Tseng.

_Fin_


End file.
